


now your life's no longer empty

by sleeponrooftops



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 08:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeponrooftops/pseuds/sleeponrooftops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean does his best to explain to Sammy why the Impala is so important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	now your life's no longer empty

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Erin, who has been begging me to write this forever.

“Here you go, champ,” Bobby says, dropping the little car into Sam’s waiting hands.  Sam giggles and clutches it tightly, dancing around before running clumsily from the kitchen and into the living room.  Their dad is away on a hunt, and they’ve been with Bobby for a few days now, but Sam is already attached to the enormous house with all its rooms, free to roam wherever he might, though being two and still little has its limits.

 

“Dean, Dean, Dean!” he chants, clambering over to the sofa and trying to climb up it but only ending up on his butt on the floor.  Dean laughs and reaches down, picking Sam up under the arms and heaving him up onto the sofa next to him.  Sam squirms around until he’s got his back pressed against the sofa and his side aligned with Dean’s, and then he opens his hands and shows him the little red truck, beaming proudly.

 

“That’s cool,” Dean coos, smiling and ruffling Sam’s hair, “Wanna see mine?”

 

“Yes, yes, yes!”  Dean laughs again—Sam’s been in a chanting phase lately, and he can’t help but admit that it’s adorable.  “Me see, me see,” Sam pleads, tugging on Dean’s shirt sleeve until he takes his toy car from beside him and shows Sam.  Almost immediately, it’s plucked out of his hands, and, before he can stop him, Sam’s slid away from the sofa and right onto the floor.

 

“Sam!” he exclaims, reaching for him, but Sam dances away until he’s out of Dean’s reach before he holds up the car, looking at it intently.

 

“What is it?” he asks, looking away from the car and up at Dean with wide eyes, curious as ever.

 

“Bobby said it was an impala, like dad’s.”

 

“The same as daddy’s?” Sam asks, looking back down at it and turning it in his hands.

 

Dean sighs and gets off the sofa, going over to him and taking the car from Sam, holding it possessively against his chest.  “Yeah, the same as dad’s.  A 67, Bobby said.”  He shrugs like he knows what he’s talking about, and Sam watches him in awe for a moment before reaching out for the car again.  “Sammy, it’s _mine_ ,” Dean says, holding it out of his reach and frowning at him.  Sam pouts and looks away, and Dean sighs again before saying, “You can look at it, if you want, but _be careful_.”

 

“Okay!” Sam exclaims happily, grabbing it from Dean’s hands.

 

He flops onto his butt and starts zooming it around on the ground, making little noises as he does, and Dean sits across from him, watching until Sam starts to run it toward the sofa, and Dean grabs it from him and shouts, “ _Sammy_!”

 

“But, but, _Dean_!” Sam whines, making grabby hands for the car.

 

“Go play with your truck.”  Sam pouts and crosses his arms, and Dean softens after a moment, scooting over next to his brother until their sides are aligned again.  “You have to be careful,” he says quietly, holding out the toy impala on his palm, “Dad said that he and mommy loved the impala, and so we have to love it, too.  Mommy’s gone now, so we have to love the impala extra so she’ll know.  And someday, when we’re old enough, and dad’s gone, then we’ll have to take care of it so he’ll know, too.”

 

“But I don’t want daddy to ever go away,” Sam says softly, and then, his lower lip suddenly trembling, he looks up at Dean and whispers, “Where did mommy go, Dean?”

 

“Dad said she’s in a beautiful—” he stumbles a little over the word, “—place now, that’s she happy.”

 

“But I miss her.”

 

Dean thinks about saying he can’t miss her because he didn’t know her and their mommy is _his_ , not Sam’s because he’s too little, but Sam’s so close to tears that he just curls an arm around his shoulders and pulls his brother close to him, leaning down to kiss his hair.  “I know, Sammy, me too,” he mumbles before holding out the car.  “If you promise to love it, you can play with it.  Just be careful.”

 

“I will,” Sam whispers, taking the car, “Forever.  I promise, Dean.”  He holds the car for a few moments before climbing to his feet and going over to the open floor again to zoom the car around.  He goes slow and does his best to avoid the wrinkles in the rug, and, when he looks up at Dean, his big brother smiles.


End file.
